


Revelations

by Dreamin



Series: 366 Sherlolly fics & ficlets [52]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Established Relationship, F/M, Inseparable AU, Married Couple, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2018-06-10
Packaged: 2019-05-20 08:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14891036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: It's Molly and Ford's anniversary. Sherlock has something special planned, but first he spills a few beans.





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in August, 4 months after the events of the previous installments. Sherlock tried being a banker again but the lifestyle was doing nothing to help his sobriety so he quit his job after the first month. Thankfully, Ford and Molly had enough savings that being a one-income household temporarily isn't going to hurt. After much deliberation, Sherlock decided to try writing. His first manuscript, a detective novel, was picked up by the second publishing house he tried.
> 
> Now that you're caught up, on with the show.
> 
> This was inspired by the April 29th prompt -- "Write about secrets revealed."

After fretting for months, Sherlock finally decided that for her and Ford’s, now their, anniversary, he would take Molly out to dinner at the nicest restaurant he could afford, then they’d see where they wanted to go from there. With her fluctuating hormones and all the changes in her body, Molly didn’t always feel like making love, but even just holding each other in bed was perfect as far as Sherlock was concerned.

Molly took her anniversary off every year, wanting to spend the entire day with her husband. Sherlock had given himself the day off from working on the edits for his book and spent the morning pampering Molly with breakfast in bed. His pancakes had much improved since his initial tries, much to his relief.

Noon found Molly dozing on the sofa in the sitting room, one hand on her stomach. Sherlock smiled to himself as he watched her for a moment. _I hate to wake her but I know she’ll love this._ He leaned down to kiss her temple then murmur in her ear, “Wake up, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, don’ wanna,” she mumbled, her eyes still closed.

Sherlock chuckled. “Our anniversary isn’t over yet. I have reservations for tonight.”

Molly opened one eye. “Where?” she asked curiously. When he named the newest French restaurant in town, she sat up and stared at him. “How can we afford that?”

“I got my editor to give me an advance.”

“How did you get reservations? I heard the PM can’t even get in without at least six weeks’ notice.”

He grinned. “Did I mention my editor’s brother-in-law owns it?”

“‘It’s not what you know, it’s who you know,’” Molly muttered, smiling a bit. “I don’t have anything to wear, though.”

“Anthea’s coming over, she’s taking you out shopping and getting your hair done.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How big of an advance is it?”

“Big enough. We can talk about the actual amount when we go over the budget tomorrow, but trust me, we’re fine.”

“Okay, if you say so,” she said, sounding a bit skeptical still as she held out her hands and he helped her to her feet. “Next year, we’ll need a babysitter for our anniversary.”

He smiled a bit. “Anthea has already volunteered – she said it’ll be good practice.”

Molly grinned. “I can’t wait to see Mycroft as a father – I want to see all those feathers of his ruffled.”

“So do I, to be honest.”

With that thought in mind, Sherlock texted Mycroft as soon as his wife left with Mycroft’s fiancée.

**The ladies just left. You do realize we’re the luckiest men on the planet, right?**

His mobile rang almost immediately. Sherlock grinned as he answered it. “That was quick. Bored?”

“You know I despise texting, but since you asked, I am terribly bored. For once, there are no looming disasters and I can actually ‘relax,’ whatever that means. To answer your question, yes, I am well aware how fortunate we are.”

He smirked. “Anthea made you see what you’ve been missing.”

“She always does,” Mycroft said, an uncharacteristic fondness in his voice. Then his tone turned smug. “Just this morning, she said something I’ve overlooked for months now.”

“And that is?” Sherlock asked, suddenly wary. _Shitshitshitshitshit!_

“It would seem I said goodbye to the wrong brother back in April.”

“Bloody fucking hell,” he muttered. “How in blazes did she figure it out? She never even met me before the funeral.”

“Actually, she didn’t figure anything out – she simply asked if the two of you ever switched places when you were younger. That made me wonder. Something about you has been slightly off since the funeral. If you were truly Ford, I could chalk it up to grief, but your reaction just now confirmed it. You are aware, Sherlock, that identity theft and fraud are crimes, are you not?”

“It’s not theft when the identity is freely given, and it’s not fraud when Molly has known from the beginning.”

“You’re saying Ford, Molly, and yourself planned this?”

“No, I’m saying Ford and I planned this. Molly knew as soon as she got a good look at me.”

“Might I ask why-”

“Brain cancer,” Sherlock cut in. “Ford’s doctor only gave him a week. He thought Molly and the baby needed him still. The switch was his idea, but I jumped at the chance because God knows I needed to turn over a new leaf.”

There was silence for so long on the other end that Sherlock wondered if Mycroft had set the phone down and walked away. Finally, Mycroft said, his voice the quietest Sherlock had ever heard it, “Do you think he suffered much in his final days?”

“He didn’t say anything about being in pain,” Sherlock said honestly. “He mentioned vision problems, that’s what made him see the doctor in the first place. He may have been cold and hungry while he was on the streets, but until those goons got to him-”

“Enough,” Mycroft said firmly. “I read the police report, I don’t need to hear the particulars again.”

“So no, I don’t think he suffered much before the end. Even if he did, he’s in a better place now, if you believe that sort of thing.” He took a deep breath. “I should have told you.”

“That would have been appreciated.” After a moment, he sighed quietly. “I understand why you didn’t – it was painfully obvious which brother I preferred.”

“Are you going to tell Mummy? Dad already knows.”

“I see no harm with keeping her in blissful ignorance. She does love you, Sherlock.”

“Liar,” he muttered.

“It was worth a try.”

“So…”

“If you’re worried I’ll reveal everything, don’t be. I understand what you and Molly are trying to do. I’ll support you however I can. It’ll make up for all the times I wasn’t there for you before.”

“I … appreciate it, Mycroft.”

“So, have you decided on a name yet?”

Sherlock smiled a bit. “I want Sherrinford II for a boy and Sherry for a girl, but Molly is putting her foot down. She said they talked about names when they found out she was pregnant and Ford insisted that a boy not have his name.”

“He never was fond of it.”

“We settled on Sherrinford as a middle name if we’re having a boy. Sherry is out, though – Molly doesn’t want to name her daughter after a drink.”

Mycroft chuckled. “A wise decision. What names does she prefer?”

“She wants Benedict for a boy, for some reason, and Louise for a girl.”

“Benedict Sherrinford Holmes?”

“Yeah, I told her it’s a mouthful.”

“You could always go with Mycroft.”

Sherlock smirked. “I could … but I don’t want my son to grow up with a stick up his arse.”

“Most amusing,” he muttered. “I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before you decided to interrupt my day.”

He chuckled. “Whatever you say, Mycroft.”

There was a pause. “I know I didn’t show it but I truly was sorry when I thought it was you that died.”

It took Sherlock a moment to get past the sudden lump in his throat. “I … I’m glad to hear it.”

“While I wait for Anthea, I think I’ll pay my proper respects at the cemetery.”

“I think that would be a good idea.”


End file.
